


a world full of hurricanes (and you were my sun)

by asweetdeception



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: A little angst, BUT ALSO HAPPY, Canon Compliant, F/M, Future Fic, Set After Season 3, Written before 3x13 aired, hurt comfort, tears and sads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 00:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6683062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asweetdeception/pseuds/asweetdeception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war with ALIE is over, Bellamy and Clarke turn to each other to heal. But after all she's lost, will Clarke be able to let Bellamy in?</p>
            </blockquote>





	a world full of hurricanes (and you were my sun)

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this little prompt in my head for weeks and I'm super happy to finally have written it. This is set in the future sometime after the delinquents defeat ALIE and live a calm happy life hopefully (so it's post season 3). I hope you guys like it!

After ALIE and the City of Light had been defeated, the chaos of their world had settled down a little. It hadn’t taken long for the different Grounder clans and the Sky People to ally themselves once again against this new common enemy. Even after the victory was achieved, the alliance had seemed to hold. Lessons had been learned, amends had been made, and the people had learned to finally put their differences aside for the collective greater good.

After the tragedy of Arkadia, the surviving Arkers had picked up and relocated to the land by the sea that Bellamy, Clarke, Octavia, and Jasper had discovered. This new encampment made for a refreshing change of scenery, a kind of clean slate and a fresh new start.

Even though the wars had been won, their ghosts still haunted the survivors, especially the ones whose hands were flushed in blood and consciences muddled with guilt. Every other night, Clarke would find herself trapped in a new nightmare, terrified that it had all returned, and she would wake up in a panic, covered in sweat and tears. Some nights her mother would be there beside her, comforting her little girl who the world had made to grow up so fast. But most nights it was Bellamy who held her as she shook with silent sobs escaping her clenched lips.

The war had broken and traumatized both of them in different ways, but they always found comfort in each other, bringing their bruised souls together as broken halves of a perfect, soothing whole. They would take turns holding each other in their arms, trying to heal the stinging wounds that plagued them. There were never any words exchanged. The only exchanges were the solace of their presence, the warmth of their touch. And just like that they would fall asleep with silent tears streaked across their faces, never to be discussed again in the daylight.

This night, Clarke found it difficult to even fall asleep, and she didn’t know whether that was a curse or a blessing in disguise. Yes, sleepless nights were agonizing, but anything was better than the demons that plagued her dreams. She made her way out of her tent and spotted Bellamy sitting on a rock by a campfire near the beach. A soft smile crept up on her lips. Bellamy found the crashing waves of the ocean at night calming, much like her, so any time he was rendered without sleep, he made his way to the beach, much like her. Clarke strolled towards him and sat down on the rock next to him.

“Trouble sleeping?” She whispered softly,

“What else is new?” Bellamy turned his head towards her, flashing her his usual half smile. The smile faded off slowly as his eyes darkened. He studied Clarke’s face pensively for a moment before speaking again. “Do you ever think about how different things might have turned out if we had followed Lincoln’s advice?”

Clarke tilted her head sideways, puzzled.

“Back before we killed the Grounder army and Mount Weather came.” Bellamy turned his gaze back to the ocean. “He had told us to leave and find Luna and her people by the sea.”

Clarke let out a heavy sigh. “We didn’t have enough time before the army attacked.”

“What if we had left before then...Lincoln would still be alive.” His voice broke slightly as he said Lincoln’s name, tears gathering in his eyes.

Clarke knew that of all the things that haunted Bellamy, Lincoln’s execution plagued him the most. “It wasn’t your fault, Bellamy.” She reached out her hand to touch his and caressed it softly.

Bellamy looked down at their entwined hands, absentmindedly stroking her fingers, his thoughts a million miles away.

“We did our best with what we had. Both of us. The things that we’ve done to survive don’t define us.” Her voice shook as she echoed her hollow words from a time considerably simpler than now.

“Do you still believe that?” Bellamy turned his head back to her, the creases between his eyebrows growing more prominent.

Clarke held his gaze as a lump formed in her throat and tears starting trickling down her cheeks. “No,” she answered in a broken voice.

Bellamy reached up a hand to gently wipe the tears from her face and cradled her face in his hands, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “But after everything we went through, we made it. We’re here. We’re alive.”

“Not all of us,” she whispered as silent sobs starting escaping her lips.

“Clarke…,” he trailed off, but words weren’t enough to sooth the wounds that survival had left Clarke with. He pulled her into a tender embrace, wrapping one arm around her and cradling her head with the other.

Clarke let herself fall into his arms and rested her face on his shoulders, as she always tended to, letting all her fears and pain loose because she knew that he would share them with her. He always did. She stayed buried in his arms that way for a while until her heart felt a little lighter and her demons a little less scarier, and then she finally pulled back and gave him a tired smile through her tear-streaked face.

“But we did. We made it through,” her hand reached up to softly caress his cheek. “I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have you with me.”

His hand covered her hand that was still on his cheek. “Me neither, Princess.” A slight smile lit up his otherwise tear-stained face.

Clarke let out a small chuckle at the use of his old nickname for her.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.” His eyes gazed intently into hers, all traces of humor now gone from his face. “If something ever happened to you, I…,” he trailed off, turning his head away from her to look down at his lap, and let out a sigh. “Clarke, I…” He turned back to her, unable to finish his sentence as if the words were stuck on his tongue, unwilling to escape his lips. But what his lips left unsaid, his eyes betrayed. He stared at her with a look of bursting emotion and desperation, as if his eyes were begging her to understand something deep and intimate, the look he only ever saved for her.

“No…,” the dread-filled whisper escaped Clarke breathlessly. She understood the words in his eyes all too well. She always did. Yet, that didn’t make the blunt meaning of them any less terrifying. What they had, it was unique and powerful, she had always known that. But they never spoke about it, never put into words what their shared looks had long since established in their hearts. And Clarke liked the uncertainty of that. The safety of not admitting, the comfort of not dangling something for the universe to snatch away from her.

“Clarke…” A look of confusion and hurt crossed his face.

“No, I can’t,” Clarke mumbled in panic as she stood up from the rock and turned her back to him.

Bellamy bowed his head, fumbling around his fingers. “Okay, I und--”

“I can’t lose you too!” Clarke whipped back around, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Not _you_ . I _won’t_ lose you!”

“Clarke, what are you talking about?” He stood up to face her, the look of confusion only growing on his face.

Clarke stared back at him with pained eyes as more tears flowed down her face, the hidden eighteen-year-old girl shining through the hardened mask of the broken delinquent queen. “Everyone I love dies, Bellamy. Everyone who _loves me_ dies.”

Bellamy stood quietly for a minute, surprised at her outburst, before finally speaking, ”I’m still here.”

Clarke let out a whimper. “I can’t risk you.”

“You won’t.” Bellamy took her hand softly and pulled her closer to him. His hands reached up to her cheeks and cradled her face again. “You won’t lose me.”

The words echoed in Clarke’s head like a prayer, and she let out a wish to the heavens for the first time in a long time. _If you take everything else from me, just let me keep this one thing. Let me have him_.

Clarke leaned in her forehead to touch his and closed her eyes, letting soft sobs roll through her, her hands resting on his chest.  She breathed him in for a minute and then pressed her face closer to his, softly touching his lips with hers. The kiss was tender and warm, as their caresses tended to be, and it made the world around them slow down, as if only the two of them existed in that moment.

Bellamy brushed a strand of her golden curls out of her face and ran his fingers through her hair, deepening the kiss with delicate pecks.

Clarke didn’t know how long the kiss lasted, only that it was the most beautiful and serene moment of her hurricane-filled life. They pulled back their lips slowly, but stood there with their foreheads touching. Clarke opened her eyes to see Bellamy smiling warmly at her. She smiled back at him and whispered.

“ _Together_.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted the fic to be set by the beach because HELLO BEACHES ARE SO ROMANTIC. So, yeah that's why I wrote in a random tragedy in Arkadia that made everyone move to the beach. Lol. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it. Let me know what you thought! :)


End file.
